Fandom Culture: A Dark Neverland
in which I discuss the corrosive nature of adult obsession with children's stories
There once was a story about a place called Neverland. If you went there, so it was said, you would never have to grow up, or have responsibilities, or any of the dull sort of rubbish meant to contribute to and build society. Instead, you could spend your days frolicking through deep woods where pixies and pirates hide out, visiting mermaids in magical blue lagoons, telling stories around the campfire every night outside the treehouse where you lived, and even flying! Of course, this was all very quaint and charming, because it was a story about children.
The real Neverland—and there is a real one—is very different. In this Neverland, instead of deep woods, you’ll find a maze of hallways and booths and conference rooms, the never-ending bowls of a convention center smack in the middle of a bustling city. In this place, there is no magic. Or if there is, it’s called money—and lots of it is used to create vast hordes of merch; stacks upon stacks of Funko Pops, posters for every movie, and various plastic gadgetry belonging to one universe or another. Unfortunately, this is not a story about children.
No, the average inhabitant of this Neverland is at least twenty, and probably older than twenty-five. Often older than thirty. Single. Childless. Lost boys and girls—the perfect Perpetual Consumers.
Right about now is when the harpies come crawling out of the woodwork to cry something like, “Why can’t you just let people enjoy things?”
I myself enjoy things with fandoms attached to them. It’s okay to enjoy things. It’s good, even. Everyone should have things they can enjoy. However, the term “enjoyment” implies something healthy, balanced. What we’re really discussing here isn’t “enjoyment,” it’s obsession. Addiction. Frenzied, interminable consumption and shirking of the normal responsibilities of adult life within a functional society. There’s nothing healthy about being trapped within the labyrinth of this dark Neverland.
In this place, adults remain perpetually infantile. Worse, though, they drag children’s content through the mud of the adult world, sexualizing it, twisting it, corrupting it, all in the name of what they call “nostalgia,” but really, it’s because they’re unable to let go of it. Unable to function without it. Without healthy relationships or children of their own, it’s all they have, and so rather than leaving it unblemished and pure for the next generation of children to enjoy, they cling to it with selfish, consumeristic hands, continuously “remaking” and “reshaping” and “adding onto” it in ways that do nothing other than deplete the value of the original art. It merely serves to feed the unquenchable frenzy of a vapid soul.
Don’t get me wrong—there’s nothing wrong with enjoyment for these things. There’s nothing wrong with feeling nostalgic for the things you enjoyed as a child. To some extent, we all feel this. And that’s healthy. Sometimes it’s even fun to go to the occasional special themed event or dress up in costume. But fandom culture—this vast, childless vacuum sucking up stories intended for children—has gone too far. It has made adults into eternal children, and inserted adult content into children’s spaces and children’s stories.
Needless to say, societies don’t become more healthy or more functional as a result of this.
It’s time to leave Dark Neverland behind and move towards a brighter future—not just for our own health and wellbeing, but for that of our children. Let them have their stories with their purity and magic intact. They deserve that luxury, at least.
Took the words right outta my mouth. I remember traveling through Italy in the 70's and being astonished that 20 somethings were reading comic books. Now the world has long past that moment. Thanks
My wife and I have talked of this endless infantilization of young adults on many an occasion. We see it too; they refuse to put down the childish things and reach for adultish things as part of the proper course in life. They cling. They obsess. We see it very clear in Legos...it used to be the toys were wonderful for children with imagination; a new toy every day. Now, they're marketed to the young adult crowd, designed not be a thing of imagination but a toy-ish icon, typically something from Star Wars or Harry Potter or something similar. There are Lego bonsai trees. WTF.
Don't get me wrong. I like toys. I will walk the toy aisle every chance I get. Unlike the infantilized young adults, this old adult likes the toys for the art and imagination in them. I look for the good toys, the ones that would last the longest in childhood. I try to sort out what brands have the best qualities for a child. I do not buy them or hoard them (sorry...that's known as 'collecting' them.)
This infantilization is a sickness, the sign of people who are stretched across the years of their lives...some part of them is back there in childhood, screaming for something they are missing or marred. They are psychically distorted, pulled out of shape, with important pieces of themselves scattered behind themselves, pulling them backwards. Until they are whole, they will not be able to go forward, they will be unwilling and unable to reach for adult things.